The Dawn and The Dusk
by holmesintardisimpala
Summary: Castiel is the youngest in his family of Vikings, and kept home when they sail away to raid. But he takes comfort in watching the sunrise. Little does he know that the sunrise takes comfort in him.


The sun had not yet risen when Castiel woke. The sharp Icelandic wind slid into the sod hut through the cracks of the door, making it impossible to go back to sleep. Silently, the dark haired youth slid out of bed, and slid out of his cloth tunic and into a longer, thicker wool one as quickly as possible to avoid the cold. He shove his feet into the sheepskin boots as he made his way quietly, as not to disturb his sleeping mother, to the front of the hut. He grabbed a slice of bread off the self by the cooking area and shoved it into his mouth as he shoved himself into his thick fur winter jacket and slid out the door.

The air was crisp, refreshing his lungs as he breathed in. He followed the path out of town, towards the wood. He wouldn't be needed to herd the sheep to their pastures for a few hours, and a walk would do him good, what with his mother worrying over his father and brothers, who were off raiding, all the time. She had refused to let her baby Castiel go with them, even if he was well beyond the raiding age, but Castiel didn't mind. He liked tending the sheep, and hunting and helping his mother around their hut, even if it led to no end of teasing by the other people in their village. They called him soft, softer than the girls of their town, which very well may have been true.

Castiels feet followed the path into the woods, where the lightening sky once again became dark, shielded by the trees. All the animals of the forest were still sleeping through the winter, leaving Castiel's feet on the frosted earth the only sound echoing through the trees. He continued on the path he knew by heart to the other side of the woods, and to the edge of a cliff. As far as Castiel knew, he was the only one who knew of this overlook of ship beach, where the warriors came and went in their boats. It was also the most perfect place to watch the sunrise.

To Castiel, dawn was the most beautiful of all the natural occurrences. There was nothing that filled him with more joy than watching the sun creep over the horizon, turning the sky first purple, then orange and pink and yellow before settling at blue as the full bright sphere came into the sky. It was beautiful.

Little did Castiel know that the dawn thought he was as beautiful as he thought it was. The god of sunrise looked to the overlook every morning, hoping, praying to Odin, that the beautiful raven aired Viking son to be there. On the days when he was, the sun rose more slowly, allowing the dawn to feast his eyes on the gorgeous youth, and allowing the beautiful boy to gaze at him.

Day, the father of the dawn saw the action his son was taking toward the human boy. He saw in the eyes of his son the love that he himself had whenever he looked at the mother of his boy, the night. He went to his son, and though he loved the boy more than anything in all of the nine realms, he took him to Midgaurd to be with the raven Viking.

Castiel sat at the edge of the overlook, feet dangling off the cliff. He watched as the sky began to turn purple, and then orange as the sun began to peer over the edge of the world. The sun rose farther of the horizon and Castiel's brow furrowed. The sun was rising faster than it usually did. Was something wrong in Asgaurd? The youth stood up, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side.

From the forest, the dawn, now in his human form, watched the blue eyed Viking. He was too shy to approach the boy. What if he found him ugly, or was scared of being in the presents of a god. And so, dawn hid in the shadow, watching through emrald eyes the youth on the cliff.

Castiel watched the sun fully rise, it had gone by far too fast. He sighed, maybe it was just the gods telling him to return to his mother. He turned back to the forest, and his breath stopped. Standing next to the path, half hidden behind a tree, there was a boy. A boy with hair the coulor of the sun when it first peeks over the horizon, face dotted with drops of sunlight. The sunlit boy ducked his head, and stepped out of the shadow. He looked into the sapphire eyes of the Viking boy.

Castiel fell to one knee, surely this boy was a god. His beauty was far beyond that of any human. To his surprise, the freckled boy fell to his knees in front of him, grasping his hands, spilling words of love Castiel never dreamed anyone could feel for him. He looked into the emerald eyes of dawn and returned every sentiment. The pair made love in the frosted grass on the outlook as the ships anchored below. But when the Men returned to the village, Castiel was not there. He never returned. Instead, he watched over his people from Asgaurd, as the dusk that led them all into the peace of night.


End file.
